


CreepyPasta Original: Mary-Ann

by AlexSpring



Category: Creepypasta - Fandom
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-22
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-03-02 22:04:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2827640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexSpring/pseuds/AlexSpring
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A girl who changes drastically; from an innocent girl who loved to make dolls for her mother to a demented child who rips out her own hair, literally. She has plots against her mother. Why? Only she knows. One interesting thing about this girl is that she had never spoke a word. In her life. So, losing eyeballs, becoming a doll, detaching her tongue. Parents, watch your twelve year old children: they might be plotting against you. </p>
<p>Mary-Ann and other original characters belong to me.</p>
            </blockquote>





	CreepyPasta Original: Mary-Ann

**Author's Note:**

> Rated Teen and Up because I thought it wasn't as evil and demented I could have made it.

23 Thursday, May 2002.

         Mary-Ann sewed on the doll's dress, humming the song of the clock.

        Tick. Tock.

        Mary-Ann never spoke. She was young when her father died. It was before she learned how to talk. But she remembered the last thing he said.

         _"Words are silver, but silence is golden, my dear Mary-Ann,"_

        She never forgot them. She remembered and served his words, because her father was the only one who loved her the way she needed to be loved.

        Mary-Ann held the finished doll up. The morning light from her window caressed it beautifully. She smiled at the sight.

        She padded out of her room, her baby blue dress sweeping against the ground. Mary-Ann was twelve, although, she had never been to school. They lived to far. But that was okay, Mary-Ann was okay with it. Mary-Ann was okay with a lot of things.

        In the small kitchen, writing a note, Mary-Ann held up the doll to her mother happily. Her mother, with her swollen belly, turned and smiled.

        "Oh, sweetheart, it's beautiful! Is it me?" Mary-Ann nodded. "Your sewing skills are great. A surprise for a surprise, am I right?" Mary-Ann arched an eyebrow at her mother's comment. Her mother giggled like a school girl, and leaned down to whisper in Mary-Ann's ear.

        "You'll be getting a brother!" Mary-Ann tensed, although she quickly relaxed. Mary-Ann wore a forced smile on her face. Her mother grabbed her and yanked her into an embrace. Mary-Ann thought.

        Something turned off in her mind. Love, burned and tortured. Anger and blood lust arising in the flames of her old self. Mary-Ann suddenly felt nauseous in the presence of her mother- no, _whore_.

        Mary-Ann pulled away, struggling not to harm her mother or her swollen belly. Mary-Ann rubbed her eye, symbolizing that she was tired. Her whore of a mother smiled and looked at the grandfather clock in the kitchen.

        "My, my, Mary-Ann. You must have woke up early this morning. Yes, go sleep. I will tell you when breakfast is ready," the whore smiled. Mary-Ann almost vomited. She padded back to her room, locking the door behind her.

        Mary-Ann slept the whole morning. Her dreams filled of her tortured mother. Mary-Ann couldn't remember the last time she had such a restful sleep.

        Before Mary-Ann slept, she thought of ways to end her mother's life and anyone who stood between her and her mother's death.

        She got up out of bed and covered her left eye, knowing that her mother would be stupid enough to believe she was actually injured. She ran out of her bed room after forcing tears out of her eyes.

        Her mother turned, and almost dropped her coffee. She sat it on the counter and rushed to Mary-Ann.

        "Mary, my little Mary! Are you okay? Let mommy see it," Mary-Ann shook her head. "I'll go fetch the doctor then, baby. Stay here, love. Try to be careful and not hurt yourself anymore!"

        Mary-Ann glared at her mother as she turned and grabbed the old Ford keys. The Ford was a  '65 model, so Mary-Ann knew that it would take longer to start up. Mary-Ann grabbed the kitchen scissors as she heard it pull away.  She ran back to her room.

        Silent tears of anger rolled down Mary-Ann's face, but her face twisted into insane anger and happiness. She stood in front of her bedroom mirror.  She held the scissors in front of her left eye, and took a deep breath. She stabbed her left eye, soundlessly. She twisted the scissors until her eye rolled out of its socket, more gooey and moist than it was supposed to be.

        Mary-Ann then cut it off the optic nerve.

        Next, the girl opened her mouth. Her tongue sat there, motionless. It wasn't ever useful to the girl, so why would she need it?

        Mary-Ann opened her mouth wider, sticking the bloodied scissors in. She angled the lower blade under her tongue and the upper above. She snipped.

        When she opened her mouth again, she tilted her head towards the floor. Her tongue flopped out, and out came a waterfall of blood with it. Mary-Ann smiled at the sight. She thought it was magnificently beautiful.

        She thought about the doll she gave her whore. She thought the doll was much to pretty to be her mother. So she wanted to resemble the beauty of it. Mary-Ann wanted to become a doll, too.

        Mary-Ann took the scissors and cut the sides of her mouth into a big smile. Her dolls always smiled. Grabbing her needle and thick black thread, she started to sew.

        And while she sewed, she hummed the song of the clock.

        Tick.

        Tock.

        She had sewed her mouth, and stared at the mirror. Her left eyelid hung limply over where its only reason to be there used to be. Mary-Ann cut off her left eyelid and sewed the thick, chunky thread over her socket.

        She looked back at the mirror. She didn't like her long hair. She snipped it off haphazardly, ripping some of it off as well. Clumps and locks of bloodied hair fell to the floor. Mary-Ann's uneven black hair stood up in all directions.

        The door opened and people rushed in.

        "This way, doctor. She's probably in her room-" Mary-Ann tightened her grip on the scissors.  She smiled (oddly) as the door opened fully.

        "Mary?" her mother whimpered. Mary-Ann took painful and jagged steps forward; but they were quick. Mary-Ann stabbed her mother in the belly, and then in the head, repeatedly. When her mother didn't move, she took the man down. Although, her mother was not dead. She lay on the floor, in pain. And so did the man.

        Mary-Ann tortured them, for hours on end.

        When she was finished with them, all that was left was torn muscles and limbs, bones, large amounts of blood, and one fetus.


End file.
